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Lecture  on  the  philosophy  of  histo 


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By     S.     TEACKLE     WALLIS,     Esq 


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PRINTED      BY      JOHN      MURPHY, 

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•  Baltimore,  January  27, 1844. 

Dear  Sir, 

The  pleasure  and  interest  with  which  the  Managers  of  Calvert  Institute 
listened  to  your  Lecture  of  the  24th  ult.  were  such  as  to  determine  them  to 
request  a  copy  of  it  for  publication. 

In  now  making  that  request,  we  beg  to  couple  with  it  the  expression  of  our 
sincere  admiration  of  the  ability  displayed  in  the  Lecture,  and  the  assurance  of 
our  gratification  to  find  its  merits  so  cordially  appreciated  by  all  who  heard  it. 

Yours  truly, 

M.  Courtney  Jenkins, 

T.  Parkin  Scott, 

Committee  on  behalf  of  Managers  Calvert  Instit. 
To 

S.  Teackle  Wallis,  Esq. 


Baltimore,  27th  January,  1844. 

Gentlemen, 

My  Lecture  of  Wednesday  evening  last  having  been  (as  you  are  aware) 
written  for  delivery,  not  publication,  is  more  unworthy,  in  many  particulars,  than 
I  could  wish,  of  the  favorable  consideration  so  kindly  expressed  in  your  note.  I 
am  happy,  however,  to  place  it  at  your  disposal,  and  beg  you  to  believe  that 
I  appreciate  your  partial  courtesy. 

Very  truly  and  respectfully,  yours, 

S,  Teackle  Wallis. 
M.  Courtney  Jenkins,  Esq. 

T.  Parkin  Scott,  Esq. 

Committee,  ^-c. 


LECTURE 


ON   THE 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY, 


AND    SOME    OF  THE 


|)opular    (Errors    toljulj    are    Jounbeb   on    It. 

The  poet  who  told  us,  that  "  the  proper  study  of  mankind  is 
man,"  would  surely  have  been  frightened  from  his  propriety, 
had  it  entered  into  his  imagination  to  conceive  the  extent  to 
which,  in  a  single  century,  the  application  of  his  maxim  was  to 
carry  us.  Few  men  there  are,  in  these  days,  who  have  not  a 
notion  of  their  own,  as  to  the  going  of  things  gone,  and  the 
coming  of  things  future,  and  the  hearing  of  all  things  past,  pre- 
sent, and  to  come,  upon  the  fortunes  of  the  human  family.  To 
almost  every  one,  the  day  in  which  we  live  atFords  a  kind  of 
platform,  upon  which  a  mystic  thing,  denominated  the  spirit  of 
the  age,  comes  forward,  and  like  the  chorus  of  an  ancient  tra-, 
gedy,  pronounces  a  mingled  strain  of  chronicle  and  prophecy. 
Different  as  may  be  the  garb  this  spirit  wears,  according  to  the 
fancy  which  has  clothed  it,  there  is  one  point  upon  which  it 
seems  to  speak,  in  the  same  tones,  to  all ;  a  point  which  displays 
the  actual  spirit  of  the  age  in  perhaps  the  least  equivocal  of  its 
phases — I  mean  its  self-glorification.  It  is  astonishing  to  see 
the  comparative  unanimity  with  which  the  framers  of  current 
philosophy  and  the  guides  of  popular  opinion  unite  in  teaching 
their  disciples,  that  the  present  age  is  the  consummation  of  all 
the  past,  and  that  the  spirit  of  progress  which  chiefly  marks  it, 
is  destined,  inevitably,  to  lead  our  race  to  the  consummation  of 
its  perfection.  I  propose  to  examine  these  notions  with  a  little 
closeness ;  to  test  the  accuracy  of  the  premises  upon  which 
they  rest,  and  to  see  how  far  their  promulgation  is  consistent 
with  just  social  views,  and  the  interest  of  our  country,  whose 
citizens  are  so  often  favored  with  them,  from  press  and  lecture- 
room. 


6  LECTURE    ON    THE 

An  intelligent  audience  does  not  need  to  be  reminded  that, 
early  in  the  last  century,  a  new  branch  of  study  was  called  into 
existence,  which  now  bears  the  imposing  title  of  the  Philosophy 
of  History.  Cultivated,  towards  the  close  of  that  century,  and 
the  beginning  of  the  present,  by  many  of  the  first  minds  in  Ger- 
man literature,  it  grew  to  assume  an  important  place  among  the 
elements  of  enlightened  knowledge.  Since  then,  it  has  entered 
extensively  into  the  best  efforts  of  French  philosophy,  and  is 
now  beginning  to  make  itself  popular  in  England.  It  must  be 
admitted,  however,  that  in  this,  as  in  all  matters  of  enlarged  and 
profound  generalization,  the  continent  is  greatly  in  advance. 

The  Philosopher  of  History  looks  upon  human  nature  as  a 
vast  science,  of  which  the  world  furnishes  and  has  furnished,  in 
the  action  of  nations  and  individuals,  but  a  series  of  protracted 
experiments.  He  endeavors,  and  in  his  theory  professes,  to  place 
himself  upon  an  elevation  above  humanity,  calmly  looking  down 
upon  its  movements  throughout  all  time,  as  if  he  were  beyond 
the  sphere  of  its  revolutions,  and  the  influence  of  its  gravitation. 
He  takes  mankind  from  their  earliest  recorded  or  imagined 
actions,  down  to  the  living  present,  tracing  in  their  career,  what 
seems  to  him  to  be  the  continuous  outline  of  the  world's  life,  and 
the  progression,  relation  and  law  of  the  principles  set  forth  in  it. 
In  the  past  and  the  present  he  finds  sown  the  seeds  of  the  future, 
and  looking  upon  humanity  as  one  great  problem,  he  solves  the 
mysteries  of  destiny,  by  applying  the  axioms  of  history  to  their 
elucidation. 

It  will  be  seen,  from  this  faint  general  notion,  that  the  duty 
which  the  Philosopher  of  History  assumes,  is  one,  which  must 
task,  to  their  utmost  limit,  the  highest  faculties  of  the  brightest 
intellect.  Men,  of  prominent  abilities,  have  devoted  years  of 
arduous  and  patient  labor  to  the  illustration  of  the  wonders  of 
Providence,  in  the  minutest,  and,  apparently,  the  most  trivial  of 
liis  works*  Yet,  after  all  those  years,  they  have  left  their  sub- 
jects still  unexhausted,  and  the  toil  of  each  succeeding  student  has 
but  served  to  open  new  vistas  of  wonder  and  wisdom,  for  still 
succeeding  laborers  to  explore.  The  extraordinary  muscular 
adaptations  which   the  human  hand  displays — the  miraculous 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  7 

combinations  which  are  involved  in  the  organs  of  vision — the 
mysteries  which  still  slumber,  unexplained,  in  the  nervous  sys- 
tem— the  phenomena  which  attend  the  planting,  the  growth,  the 
blossoming,  the  reproduction  of  a  little  wayside  flower — all 
these  things  have,  in  their  turn,  pointed  the  studies  of  long  life- 
times, and  are  full  of  unintelligible  wonders  still.  What  then,  is 
the  interminable  distance  which  he  must  travel,  who  begins 
the  journey  of  thought  with  the  creation  of  man — who  strives  to 
trace,  through  all  the  developments  of  human  conduct — through 
all  the  countless  revolutions— contradictions — conflicts — con- 
fusion of  rolling  ages,  the  ebbing  and  flowing  of  that  measureless 
ocean,  the  providence  of  God!  Ocean  did  I  call  it?  Rather 
let  it  be  counted  as  a  mighty  wind — which  has  passed  over 
human  existence — unseen — the  direction  and  impetus  whereof 
are  to  be  gathered,  only,  from  the  marks  of  its  progress  which 
have  survived  through  time. 

Not  only  is  the  subject,  in  itself,  a  vast  one — but  many  of  the 
data,  on  which  its  scientific  conclusions  are  to  rest,  have  their 
basis  upon  very  clouds.  Mutable  as  even  the  face  of  nature  is, 
through  a  succession  of  long  ages — it  is  permanence  itself,  to 
the  changing  fate  of  man.  Let  history  be  as  busy  as  she  may — 
she  is  but  a  gatherer  of  fragments.  She  is  a  chronicler,  that 
tells  scarce  half  The  incidents  of  human  existence — of  man's 
national,  not  less  than  his  individual  career — what  security  have 
they  of  perpetuation — or,  if  they  be  treasured,  dimly  in  memory, 
what  security  have  they  that  they  will  be  above  the  frailties  of 
recollection — the  metamorphosis  of  tradition — the  chances  of 
perversion,  by  ignorance  or  wilful  falsehood }  Recent  travellers 
inform  us  that  the  honey  of  Mount  Hymettus,  in  Attica,  famous 
for  its  excellence  in  Grecian  song,  is  still  as  sweetly  gathered 
from  the  same  fragrant  thyme,  as  when  the  bards  of  Greece 
were  there  to  taste  and  praise  it.  Nature,  here,  proves  to  us, 
that  the  poet's  tale  was  truth.  She  is  his  witness,  after  two 
thousand  years.  But  who  shall  say  of  the  men  who  lived  in  the 
shadow  of  that  classic  hill,  that  their  story,  solemn,  grave,  elo- 
quent as  it  may  be,  is  as  free  from  peradventure,  as  is  that  of  the 
little  insect  that  buzzed  among  their  g^ardens  ^     Who  shall  say 


O  I.ECTURE    ON    THE 

that  their  good  deeds  and  their  evil — national  and  individual — 
their  political  n)ovements  and  the  springs  and  principles  there- 
of— have  come  down  to  us — all  or  one  half  of  them — faithfully 
as  they  were  ?  Who  shall  tell,  that  facts,  which  were  but  trifles, 
have  not  been  made  the  foundation  of  whole  historic  systems — 
while  others  have  gone  into  oblivion,  lost  or  hidden,  which 
would  have  made  sunlight,  all  over  the  dark  places  of  their  in- 
dividual or  national  progress?  Over  how  many  of  the  best  land- 
marks, by  which  historical  philosophy  might  have  been  guided, 
may  not  the  sands  of  ages  have  drifted  altogether?  There- 
searches  of  antiquarians  have  discovered  and  are  discovering, 
yearly,  in  the  southern  portions  of  our  own  continent,  traces  of 
mighty  nations,  whose  arts,  and  sciences,  and  civil  polity,  had 
reached,  in  many  particulars,  as  high  a  point,  as  modern  intellect 
has  been  able  to  attain.  The  elaborate  history  of  Mr.  Prescott, 
and  the  instructive  productions  of  Stephens,  Norman,  and  May- 
er, have  but  recently  placed  the  English  reader  in  possession  of 
facts,  as  to  the  former  inhabitants  of  Mexico,  which  astound  us 
by  the  wonders  they  disclose.  Each  succeeding  step,  which 
oriental  learning  takes,  among  the  chronicles  of  Egypt  and  Asia, 
reveals  some  mighty  fragment  of  a  system,  before  untold  of : 
and  leaves  us  at  sea,  as  to  the  probable  extent  of  a  social  pro- 
gress, which,  mighty  as  it  was,  had  sunk  out  of  human  memory. 

While  then,  I  do  not  mean,  for  one  moment,  to  plunge  my 
auditory  or  myself  into  the  chaos  of  historical  skepticism,  I 
nevertheless  submit  the  views  to  which  I  have  adverted,  in  order 
that  we  may  see  how  easily  and  how  far  the  wisest  may  be  led 
away  from  certainty,  or  rational  probability,  in  their  deductions, 
by  the  very  wildness,  or  imperfection,  or  absence  of  the  pre- 
mises, on  whicli  they  should  depend. 

There  are  other  things  too,  besides  the  vastness  of  the  sub- 
ject and  the  incertitude  of  its  elements,  which  deserve  to  be 
noticed  in  this  connection.  Generalization  is  always  a  critical 
business.  It  is  one  of  the  I  ugliest  efforts  of  mind,  and  likewise 
among  the  most  perilous.  Viewed  in  one  light,  facts  may  seem 
the  exponent?  of  one  set  of  principles— seen  under  other  circum- 
stances, a  little  distorted,  or  varied,  or  colored,  they  may  be 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  9 

made  to  uphold  another.  Drop  one  material  fact  from  a  series, 
and  it  may  render  the  most  elaborate  generalization  worthless. 
Give  undue  importance  to  one  that  is  immaterial,  and  it  may 
produce,  in  an  opposite  way,  the  same  results  precisely.  Add 
to  this  too,  the  invariable  tendency  of  human  nature,  from  the 
days  of  Procrustes  to  the  present— exemplified  in  all,  from  the 
son  of  the  king  on  his  throne,  to  the  son  of  Crispin  in  his  stall — 
to  make  the  sleeper  fit  the  bed,  the  foot  fit  the  shoe,  the  fact  fit 
the  theory.  Every  speculative  man  has  his  own  peculiar 
notions  of  human  nature,  its  whence  and  its  whither,  its  progress 
and  tendency.  As  a  rule,  almost  without  exception,  these 
notions  form  the  mould,  into  which  his  generalizations  are  apt 
to  run,  and  the  bent  of  his  mind  will  be,  to  discover  a  wonderful 
harmony,  between  his  own  preconceived  opinions  and  the  facts 
which  history  may  have  evolved.  The  fatalist  and  the  believer 
in  Providential  interposition,  the  perfectionist  and  the  doubter 
of  human  excellence,  the  radical  and  the  conservative,  the  Chris- 
tian reasoner  and  the  skeptic,  all  find,  or  believe,  or  say  they 
find  food,  for  their  antagonistical  speculations  and  deductions,  in 
^  the  same  facts,  the  same  histories,  the  same  outline  of  human 

progress. 

"  Such  tricks  hath  strong  imagination !" 

It  is  no  wonder  then,  from  all  these  causes,  that  although  the 
great  men  who  have  labored  in  the  Philosophy  of  History  have 
called  it  "  science" — as  indeed  almost  every  thing  is  now  called, 
which  looks  like  a  system — it  does  not  yet  bid  fair  to  rival  the 
mathematics,  in  the  infallibility  of  its  axioms  or  its  solutions. 

Numerous,  and  indeed  amusing  in  their  conflict,  are  the  views 
of  human  nature,  its  course  and  destiny,  which  different  minds 
have  elicited.  Throwing  aside  minor  and  more  metaphysical 
differences,  which,  though  interesting  to  the  student,  would  be 
tedious  in  the  lecturer,  we  will  look  at  the  conclusions  merely, 
which  have  been  reached.  One  set  of  theorists  look  upon  man 
as  having  been  almost  perfect  before  his  fall — and  consider  that 
the  true  Philosophy  of  History  consists,  in  watching  his  steady 
progress  back,  from  the  day  of  his  transgression,  towards  the 
degree  of  perfection  which  he  lost.     Of  this  theory — sustained 

2 


10  LECTURE    ON    THE 

however  by  many  honorable  names  in  German  literature — Fre- 
derick Schlegel  is,  to  the  American  public,  the  chief  oracle — 
his  work  having  been  translated  and  freely  distributed  through 
our  country.  I  will  not  pause,  now,  to  resist  this  doctrine,  but 
will  merely  observe,  in  anticipation,  as  it  strikes  me,  that  if 
humanity  has  really  advanced  towards  its  lost  birthright,  the 
very  trains  of  reasoning,  which  the  philosopher  relies  on,  show 
that  it  has  frequently  been  by  a  system  of  advance,  which  bears 
a  wondrous  similitude  to  retrogradation.  The  same  observation 
may  justly  be  made,  I  think,  upon  another  class  of  writers,  who 
start  with  the  idea,  that  man  was  originally  a  savage,  and  con- 
sider that  philosophical  history  traces  him  from  that  point  on- 
ward— marching  ever  towards  ultimate  perfection.  This  theory, 
likewise,  in  modern  times,  the  birth  of  German,  or  perhaps  Italian 
ingenuity,  is  now  current  in  the  French  school — modified  in  its 
details,  according  to  the  very  varying  tenets,  theological  and 
metaphysical,  of  its  particular  advocates.  Between  the  two 
theories  thus  named,  it  seems  that  History  need  not  trouble  her- 
self to  make  a  selection — for,  if  both  admit  that  mankind  are 
always  advancing  towards  perfection — it  matters  little,  in  a 
purely  human  point  of  view,  whether  it  is  a  condition  they  have 
lost,  or  one  they  never  enjoyed. 

Another  set  of  philosophers  boldly  tell  us,  that  the  world  has 
reached  its  perfection,  just  at  this  particular  epoch — that  the 
elements  of  progress  have  been  exhausted — that  society  is  at 
the  Pillars  of  Hercules — with  no  strong  hand  to  open  them 
before  her.  This  view  is  very  pleasant,  to  us  who  are 
living  and  see  it.  It  presents  rather  a  sad  prospect,  how- 
ever, to  the  good  people,  who  are  to  come  after  us.  By  way  of 
doing  something  to  console  posterity,  a  recent  Westminster 
reviewer — commenting  upon  this  last  named  theory,  as  advocated 
by  Dr.  Arnold — offers  a  new  element  to  civilization.  He  admits 
that  the  Caucasian  race  has  worked  out  its  vein — but  he  sees 
bright  hopes  of  human  perfection  hovering  over  the  African 
continent.  There — he  contends — the  proud  intellect  and  stub- 
born will  may  not  be  found — but  there.  Christian  perfection, 
and  love,  which  is  its  essence,  will  be  seen,  hereafter,  to  make 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  11 

their  dwelling.  He  quotes  from  Dr.  Charming,  to  show  the 
coincident  opinion  of  that  eminent  but  not  always  philosophical 
reasoner — and  insists,  that  the  mixture,  hereafter,  of  the  Cauca- 
sian and  African  civilizations,  will  weave  into  the  web  of  human 
destiny,  all  the  golden  threads  that  can  adorn  it.  I  cannot  tell 
how  far  this  view  may  strike  you  as  philosophical.  It  seems  to 
me,  that  it  partakes  no  little  of  the  madness,  with  the  eyes  of 
which 

"The  lover,  all  as  frantic, 
Sees  Helen's  beauty  in  a  brow  of  Egypt." 

With  the  theory  of  Dr.  Arnold  or  his  reviewer,  it  is  fair  to 
say,  that  the  majority  of  writers  and  thinkers  do  not  much  trou- 
ble themselves.  The  two  great  classes  of  which  I  first  spoke — 
uniting,  as  I  observed  in  the  opening,  upon  the  great  principle 
of  our  progress  toward  perfection — comprise  within  their  ranks 
the  majority — the  large  majority  of  historical  philosophers. 
Upon  the  mode,  however,  in  which  this  perfection  is  to  be  attain- 
ed, they  are  by  no  means  unanimous.  Some  deem  that  intellec- 
tual discovery — scientific  attainment — knowledge — will  lead  us 
to  the  goal.  Others,  and  among  them,  a  large  class  now  stirring 
the  waters  in  England — inculcate  the  folly  of  positive  know- 
ledge and  scientific  pursuit,  and  substitute,  as  the  engine  of  im- 
provement, devotion  to  moral  education.  Some  believe,  that  a 
great  union  of  the  whole  nations  of  the  earth,  under  a  Christian 
government,  is  to  work  out  the  destiny  of  humanity.  Some, 
again,  uphold  that  Christianity  will  introduce  perfection  in  phi- 
losophy and  then  retire,  leaving,  to  its  successor,  the  consumma- 
tion of  the  great  work.  Others  look  forward  to  the  time,  when 
both  religion  and  philosophy  will  be  superseded,  and  the  Divi- 
nity will  speak  in  the  teachings  of  a  "  new-born  band,'"*  who 
are  to  lead  the  species,  as  a  flock,  to  the  pasture  of  perfection. 
Which  system  is  to  be  realized,  it  is,  at  this  moment,  rather 
difficult  to  determine.  Perhaps  the  soundest  solution  would  be, 
to  apply  to  all  these  dreamings,  what  a  forgotten  poet  has  said 
of  the  world — 

"  The  world's  a  wood,  in  which  all  lose  their  way, 
Though,  by  a  difF'rent  patfl^  each  goes  astray !" 


12  LECTURE    ON    THE 

In  all  dissertations  upon  the  Philosophy  of  History,  the  word 
"  civilization"  has  lately  grown  much  into  vogue.  It  has  been 
the  subject  of  able  treatises  by  able  men.  Among  them,  the 
lectures  of  M.  Guizot,  (partly  translated  into  English)  are  pre- 
eminent, as  specimens  of  admirable  philosophical  generalization. 
The  word  itself  is  a  very  attractive  one,  and,  like  most  words 
which  sound  sensibly,  and  yet  convey  no  definite  idea — it  is 
popular  with  the  extensive  circle,  who  look  upon  indefiniteness 
as  "  nine  points"  of  philosophy.  We  hear  of  the  civilization 
of  the  Greeks  and  the  Romans — the  Pagan — Christian — feudal 
— Northern — Southern  civilization — lately  we  have  had  the 
Aztec  civilization — the  familiar  sound  of  the  word  persuading 
us,  all  the  while,  that  it  conveys  a  very  tangible  notion,  of  what 
is,  in  reality,  a  very  abstract  matter.  Finally,  we  are  taught 
that  all  these  civilizations  (barring  the  Aztec,  which,  though  a 
very  important  one,  has  but  lately  come  into  the  field) — all 
have  been  gathered  into  one  mighty  river,  the  civilization  of  the 
nineteentb  century!  Thus  concentred,  we  learn  that  the  waters 
are  rushing  and  will  continue  to  rush  on,  until  they  shall  ulti- 
mately spread  themselves  as  a  great  lake  of  perfection,  no  longer 
to  know  the  tides  of  human  infirmity  ! 

This  is  all  very  poetical  certainly,  and  agreeable  likewise — 
for,  besides  being  very  simple  and  intelligible,  it  puts  us  in  high 
conceit  of  our  own  times,  and  of  ourselves.  Nevertheless,  it 
seems  that  doctors  disagree,  as  to  the  application  of  their  prin- 
ciples. M.  Guizot  contends  that  France  is  the  focus  of  "civi- 
lization," because  of  the  greatness  of  her  "ideas."  M.  De 
Tocqueville,  though  quite  ready  to  claim  the  same  honor  for  his 
country,  inveighs  heartily  against  this  propensity  of  the  French, 
to  discover  some  new  "  general  and  eternal  laws"  ^very  morn- 
ing, and,  in  the  ardour  of  their  generalization,  "  to  compress 
the  human  race  into  the  compass  of  an  article  !"  The  English, 
on  their  part,  are  apt  to  apply  to  the  general  and  magnificent 
ideas  of  their  philosophical  neighbors,  the  most  approved  An- 
glo-Saxon expressions  of  polite  contempt,  and  turn  to  arts  and 
arms — the  India  House  and  the  Bank  of  England — their  dock- 
yards and  their  colonies — parliament  and  the  spinning-jenny — as 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  13 

the  triumphant  evidences  of  their  "  civilization."  Our  patriotic 
philosophers  here  at  home,  are  not  backward  in  pointing  to  our 
free  institutions,  as  establishing  our  own  claim  to  be  deemed, 
past  all  dispute,  "  the  most  enlightened  nation  under  the  sun." 

In  so  unsettled  a  state  of  the  controversy,  it  may  be  as  well 
to  enquire,  what  "  civilization,"  in  reality,  is.  Let  us  look  at 
M.  Guizot's  definition — for  his  works  are  unquestionably  the 
ablest,  and  furnish,  besides,  a  large  quota  of  the  materials, 
openly  borrowed  or  quietly  stolen,  which  make  up  the  philoso- 
phical capital  of  minor  essayists  on  the  subject. 

He  divides  civilization  into  two  elements; 

1.  The  advancement  of  society,  as  distinguished  from  the 
improvement  of  the  individuals  who  compose  it. 

2.  The  development,  mentally  and  morally,  of  man,  the  indi- 
vidual. 

With  all  deference  to  authority  so  deservedly  distinguished, 
it  does  not  seem  to  me  that  the  two  elements  are  capable  of 
separation. 

What  is  the  object  of  human  society?  The  moral, mental  and 
physical  welfare  of  its  members.  It  can  have  no  other  end. 
Then  society  cannot  be  said  to  have  fairly  advanced,  unless  it 
has  carried  with  it  a  corresponding  advancement  in  the  mental, 
moral  and  physical  condition  of  its  individuals.  Society,  being 
but  a  means,  cannot  have  improved,  unless  it  has  gone  on  pro- 
moting its  end.  It  follows,  therefore,  that  M.  Guizot's  first 
element  of  civilization,  social  progress^  merges  in  the  second, 
which  is,  individual  progress — and  civilization  may  thus  be 
defined  to  be — at  any  particular  epoch — the  state  of  mental, 
moral,  and  physical  improvement,  which  a  particular  society,  or 
mankind  in  general,  at  that  epoch,  presented.  It  will  be  observed 
that  I  have  added  physical  improvement  to  the  narrower  defini- 
tion of  M.  Guizot,  which  confines  itself  to  mental  and  moral 
development.  By  this  addition,  I  do  not  mean  merely  to  include 
the  progress  of  mankind,  in  any  ofsthose  great  plans  and  schemes 
which  minister  to  wealth  and  power,  and  the  physical  greatness 
of  empires.  I  refer  to  physical  comfort,  as  an  ingredient  in  hu- 
man happiness — the  physical  comfort — protection — facility  of 


14  LECTURE    dN    THE 

subsistence  of  individuals — the  means  of  enjoying  moderately 
and  healthfully,  the  goods  of  life.  This  element  of  happiness, 
I  contend,  is  as  important  a  subject  of  enquiry,  in  ascertaining 
the  civilization  of  any  age  or  people,  as  are  any  of  the  intellec- 
tual or  political  triumphs,  which  may  have  graced  its  annals. 

These  things  premised,  let  us  see — as  well  as  a  rapid  glance 
will  allow  us — how  far  the  civilization  of  the  nineteenth  century 
deserves  the  magnificent  estimate,  which  it  is  fashionable  to  put 
upon  it. 

In  so  far  as  knowledge — its  diffusion  and  extent — are  con- 
cerned, no  sane  man  of  course,  will  deny,  that  the  human  in- 
tellect has  reached  a  point,  the  very  dream  of  which,  a  century 
or  two  ago,  would  have  been  deemed,  itself,  insanity.  The  dis- 
coveries to  which  I  before  referred,  as  made  by  antiquarians 
and  orientalists,  of  latter  days — leave  us,  it  is  true,  in  doubt, 
whether  we  much  surpass  or  indeed  equal,  in  many  points  of 
profoundest  science,  the  forgotten  centuries  whose  annals  they 
have  been  exploring.  But  let  us  yield  this  point,  and  concede 
that  in  knowledge — science — we  are  immeasurably  beyond  the 
past — and  what  will  the  concession  prove  ?  Is  the  degree  of 
our  approach  to  'perfection,  dependent  on  the  amount  of  our 
knowledge  ?  True,  a  popular  author,  Mr.  Dick,  has  written  a 
popular  book  called  "  The  Philosophy  of  a  Future  State,"  the 
principle  of  which  is,  that  the  happiness  of  a  better  world  will 
be  considerably  affected  by  the  extent  of  our  acquisitions  in 
this,  and  that  consequently — as  the  same  author  argues  in  his 
book  on  the  "  Diffusion  of  Knowledge" — he  who  leaves  this 
world  with  his  mind  most  full,  will  have  the  start  of  his  less  for- 
tunate fellow  beings,  in  the  other.  As  a  consequence  of  this 
enlightened  theory,  the  author  gives  a  list  of  the  studies  which 
will  be  prosecuted  in  the  life  hereafter,  among  which  mathe- 
matics, astronomy,  natural  philosophy,  anatomy,  and  history  are 
set  down  as  most  prominent.  Such  moon-struck  fancies,  how- 
ever, only  go  to  show  the  absurdity  of  the  principle  which  we 
are  resisting.  Can  the  perfection  of  the  human  mind  depend  on 
what  it  knows  of  external  facts  or  their  laws  ?  It  is  the  mind 
itself,  which  is  in  question,  not  the  range  of  objects  which  it  com- 


PHILOSOPHY    OE  .HISTORY.  I  5 

mands.  It  is  the  strength  which  is  in  the  eagle-wing,  to  soar, 
and  the  keenness  which  is  in  the  eagle-eye,  to  see,  and  not  the 
multiplicity  of  things  above  which  the  one  may  rise,  or  which 
the  other  may  command  by  its  gaze.  As  Mr.  Sewell  forcibly 
has  it,  it  "  is  power  of  mind,  not  accumulation  of  learning — 
faculties,  not  facts." 

Can  this  our  age,  then — though  the  humblest  and  most  igno- 
rant among  us  know,  what  Socrates  did  not  dream  of — can  this 
age,  with  all  its  knowledge,  point  to  intellects  which  throw  all 
past  intelligences  in  the  shade  ?  Try  them,  man  to  man.  Is 
an  artisan  of  our  day — with  his  cheap  publications  and  news- 
papers, his  respectable  knowledge  of  science  in  its  popular 
forms,  his  education  much  or  little — superior,  in  what  constitutes 
mental  superiority,  to  the  artisan,  say  of  Greece  or  Rome,  or  of 
the  sixteenth  century  }  True,  he  knows  more :  he  reads  more : 
he  knows  much  that  Lord  Bacon  did  not  know.  But  is  he 
nearer  intellectual  perfection.''  Are  his  faculties  brighter? 
Does  he  think  more  infallibly  }  Is  he  nearer  the  image  of  his 
Maker }    It  would  be  hard  to  tell  in  what. 

Take  a  scientific,  educated,  able  man,  of  the  nineteenth 
century — take  the  ablest.  Measure  him  with  Pythagoras,  or 
Aristotle,  or  Bacon,  or  Leibnitz.  Put  out  of  the  question  what 
he  knows — his  mere  acquisitions.  Balance  mind  with  mind — 
weigh  faculty  against  faculty — greatness  of  intellect  and  the  de- 
grees of  its  perfection — will  the  nineteenth  century  bear  off  the 
palm.''  Is  then  the  perfection  of  humanity,  mentally,  advanced 
in  our  civilization,  granting  all  that  truth  requires  us  to  yield  to 
its  multifarious  knowledge .''  I  confess  I  cannot  see  how.  Nor, 
does  the  argument  of  the  perfectionist  find  more  to  strengthen 
it,  in  the  diffusion,  than  in  the  degree,  of  intellectual  develop- 
ment. We  must  concede,  it  is  true,  the  wonderful  increase  of 
cultivated  men :  but  I  am  far  from  admitting  that  the  number 
of  great,  original  minds  is  larger  than  of  yore.  Yet,  were  I  to 
grant  their  increase  in  number — denying,  as  I  have  denied,  their 
advancement  in  degree — it  would  not,  surely,  follow  from  such 
concession,  that  a  nearer  approach  of  the  species,  to  intellectual 
perfection,  could  be  inferred.     A  thousand  coursers  might  start 


16  LECTURE    ON    THE 

for  the  Olympic  olive — but  the  speed  of  the  victor,  not  the  mul- 
titude of  his  rivals,  though  all  were  swift,  would  be  the  criterion 
of  swiftness — the  merit  of  the  race.  So  too,  with  the  race  of 
intellect.  All  the  inhabitants  of  the  world,  might,  at  this 
moment,  be  made  as  wise  as  Solomon,  and  yet  humanity  would 
not  rise  a  degree,  on  that  account,  above  the  point  of  Solomon's 
elevation.  The  men  might  be  sages ;  but,  man  would  be  no  more 
god-like  than  before.     Let  us  go  farther. 

In  all  that  concerns  the  higher  branches  of  human  thought — 
those  branches  which  approach  the  mighty  problems  of  our 
spiritual  nature,  and  our  relation  to  the  Being  from  whose  es- 
sence our  spirits  are  an  emanation — has  the  present  age  done 
any  thing  to  obliterate  the  efi'orts  of  genius  two  thousand  years 
ago  ?  What  is  there  in  the  philosophy  of  this  day,  true  or 
false,  which  is  wholly  original  ?  Its  Platonism  and  its  Panthe- 
ism, and  all  its  other  isms — its  very  ideas  of  human  perfectibil- 
ity which  we  are  resisting — what  are  they  but  the  regeneration 
or  the  re-composition  of  systems  or  parts  of  systems,  long  since 
invented  and  buried }  In  all  the  sublimest  philosophy  which 
revelation  has  kindled  into  flame  in  our  day — what  is  there  that 
the  early  Christians  did  not  hear  or  read,  for  their  consolation 
and  improvement,  from  the  lips  or  in  the  works  of  the  early 
fathers  ?  In  all  the  various  creeds  and  systems  which  modern 
ingenuity  has  built  upon  the  sacred  writings,  what  creed  or  sys- 
tem is  there,  with  which  the  theological  subtlety  of  the  early 
centuries  did  not  perplex  the  faithful  ?  How  many  of  the  most 
fashionable  errors  of  our  very  day  may  not  be  traced  to  Roman, 
Grecian,  Egyptian,  even  Indian  origin  ?  Every  now  and  then, 
the  hieroglyphical  development  of  some  unwrapped  mummy^ 
or  the  casually  seen  sculpture  of  some  stone  which  a  spade 
turns  up,  gives  traces  of  our  modern  inventions,  almost  as  far 
back  as  the  flood. 

Is  it  in  our  mental  superiority,  as  displayed  by  our  political 
institutions,  that  we  have  pride  ^  Test  the  institutions  of  many 
ages  of  the  past — not  by  the  false  criterion  of  an  imaginary  stand- 
ard of  excellence — but  by  their  adaptation  to  the  people  and  the 
times  they  were  meant  to  govern,  and  perhaps  Pythagoras  and 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  17 

Solon,  Lycurgus  and  Justinian,  Charlemagne,  Alfonso  and  Alfred, 
may  bid  us  pause,  in  the  violence  of  our  self-commendation. 

Will  the  fine  arts,  do  you  think,  afford  matter  of  triumph  to 
our  perfectionists  of  the  present  time  ?  Go  to  Elephanta  and 
the  Pyramids — the  Temple  of  Ephesus — the  Parthenon  and  the 
Coliseum  !  Look,  in  later  times,  to  the  Cathedrals  of  Strasbourg, 
and  Milan,  and  Rheims,  and  the  fairy  magnificence  of  the  Al- 
hambra  !  Call  up  as  witnesses,  the  shades  of  Appelles  and 
Praxiteles — give  life  to  the  Yenus  de  Medici  and  the  Apollo 
Belvidere.  Bid  the  genius  of  the  nineteenth  century  outspan  the 
dome  of  St.  Peter's,  or  shed  a  ray  of  more  divinity  upon  the 
Transfiguration  of  Raphael  ? 

If  poetry  and  the  development  of  genius  in  that  high  sphere 
be  made  the  test — we  may  satisfy  ourselves  with  the  simple 
question— how  much  nearer  to  perfection  have  we  been  carried, 
by  the  two  centuries,  which  have  rolled  by  since  the  death  of 
Shakspeare  ? 

But,  forsaking  the  subject  of  intellectual  progression — let  u# 
see  whether  the  "  civilization"  of  our  day  has  brought,  or  is 
carrying  us  nearer  perfection,  in  moral  development.  That  the 
Christian  revelation  has  been  the  parent  of  a  new  order  of  things, 
in  the  moral  history  of  our  race,  is  of  course  a  fact,  which  de- 
monstration forces  upon  the  convictions  even  of  the  skeptical. 
That  it  conveys  to  us  the  sure  and  only  rules,  whereby  our 
erring  nature  may  reach  the  climax  of  excellence  accorded  to 
its  weakness,  is  a  truth,  of  acceptation  equally  universal.  But 
Christianity,  holding  out  to  us  no  promises  of  terrestrial  perfec- 
tion— teaches  no  such  doctrine  as  the  onward,  infinite  progression 
of  our  race.  It  has,  for  man  in  the  present  century,  no  truths, 
which  were  not  revealed  to  the  men  who  listened  to  the  Apos- 
tles. The  civilization  of  this  age,  rich  in  the  spoils  and  accu- 
mulations of  the  civilizations  which  swell  its  current,  has  added, 
and  can  add  not  one  jot  or  tittle,  to  the  doctrines  whose  ineffable 
sublimity  broke  forth,  upon  the  solemn  silence  of  the  holy  mount. 
]N either  can  natural  ethics  boast  any  new  discoveries,  in  any 
state  of  civilization.  They  form  a  simple  science — far  easier 
to  understand  than  follow— a  science  which  involves  no  mystery, 
3 


18  LECTURE    ON    THE 

and  affords  no  scope  to  ingenuity  or  invention — which  has  been 
promulged  for  centuries,  and  stands,  as  it  t,hen  stood.  If  there- 
fore the  moral  advancement  of  our  age  means  any  thing — it  must 
refer  to  an  improved  appreciation — a  steadier  following — of  the 
precepts  of  natural  and  revealed  religion.  To  what  remarkable 
extent  then,  has  the  nineteenth  century  taught  its  "  civilization," 
to  avoid  the  vices  of  its  erring  predecessors  ? 

Has  it  infused  into  the  dealings  of  nations  with  each  other, 
that  feeling  of  brotherhood^ — that  forgetfulness  of  self — which 
alone  can  gather  them  together,  as  children  of  their  universal 
parent!*  Has  this  age  known  less  than  the  centuries  before  it, 
of  wars  and  rumors  of  wars?  Has  less  of  blood  been  poured 
upon  the  bosom  of  the  earth — for  frivolous  or  unworthy  pre- 
texts— for  vain  ambition — for  empire — for  oppression?  Are 
armies  and  navies  obsolete  ?  Is  war  no  science — bloodshed  no 
business  ?  Are  the  conquests  of  France  in  Africa,  and  of  England 
in  Asia — at  this  very  moment — founded  upon  better  or  purer 
principles  of  morality,  than  those  which  guided  Xerxes  to 
Greece — the  Carthaginian  to  Italy — the  Roman  to  Gaul  and 
Britain — ^the  Arab  to  Spain  ? 

What  have  governments — the  representatives  of  national  mo- 
rality and  intelligence — done,  in  our  day,  for  the  cause  of  morals 
among  the  governed  ?  The  statute-books — aye  and  of  the  freest 
governments,  not  omitting  our  own — may  be  found  full  of  com- 
mercial regulations,  and  industrial  laws,  and  all  that  can  stimulate 
production.  Enactments  too  are  there,  in  abundance,  to  punish 
crime,  and  build  prisons,  and  fill  them — but  where  has  there  been 
a  great  national,  statutary  effort,  to  lay,  on  solid  and  permanent 
foundations,  a  system  for  crime's  prevention  ?  What  have  the 
freest  nations — France — England — the  United  States — the  great 
competitors  for  the  crown  of  civilization — what  have  they,  with 
their  "  general  ideas" — and  wealth  and  empire — and  free  insti- 
tutions— done,  in  the  palpable  matter  of  education — compared 
with  what  they  have  toiled  and  suffered  to  consummate,  for  trade 
and  glory? — compared  with  what  kingdoms  of  Europe  relatively 
despotic,  have  done  for  the  cultivation  of  their  citizens  ? 

Look  then  at  the  records  of  crime  among  individuals.     The 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  19 

ruder  and  more  barbarous  offences,  such  as  uncultivated  men 
committed,  in  their  savageness,  are  of  course  less  frequent — but 
still,  our  daily  chronicles  show  us,  that  even  in  the  bosoms  of  the 
most  polished  societies,  crimes  are  for  ever  bursting  out,  W'hich 
appal  us  by  their  horrors.  But  putting  these  aside,  and  pass- 
ing over  too,  the  dark  records  of  grosser  vices — have  not 
the  refinements  of  society  brought,  with  them,  corresponding 
refinements  of  guilt }  Instead  of  highway  robbery,  marauding 
and  black-mail — the  breach  of  faith  and  trust,  public  and  private, 
has  sprung  into  existence — criminal  bankruptcy — swindling — 
fraud — deceit — in  all  the  multiplied  forms  which  the  combina- 
tions of  social  dealing  may  suggest !  Commerce  alas !  the  con- 
comitant— almost  the  parent  of  modern  "  civilization" — how 
feeble  the  tribute  to  its  morality,  which  the  candid  historian 
must  pay!  Along  with  its  splendid  enterprise — its  wealth — its 
luxuries  and  magnificence — its  spread  of  knowledge — its  wide 
grasp  of  human  development — how  have  avarice  and  selfishness, 
national  and  individual,  gone  hand  in  hand  !  How  has  it  tended 
ever,  to  make  the  merchant  subordinate  to  the  wares  in  which 
he  deals — to  stimulate  the  rivalry  of  classes  and  nations,  into 
hatred  and  war — to  degrade  the  operative  into  a  mere  machine — 
to  make  of  human  life  and  labor,  and  the  best  exercise  of  hu- 
man faculties,  things  to  be  bought  and  sold  and  played  withes— 
as  the  system  or  the  mighty  game  might  chance  to  require ! 

And  here  we  fall,  insensibly — for  all  these  things  have  inti- 
mate connexion — into  the  further  reflection,  how  far  the  happi- 
ness of  man — and  involved  in  the  question  of  happiness — how 
far  his  physical  welfare,  has  been  improved  by  the  progress,  of 
which  the  age  is  so  boastful.  Any  one  who  pauses  only  to  com- 
pare the  refinements  and  appliances  of  modern  life,  with  the 
roughness  and  rudeness  of  the  best  of  times  past,  will  go  far  to 
conclude,  at  first  sight,  that  there  is  hardly  room  for  the  form 
of  a  parallel.  But  the  first  view  is,  here,  as  it  generally  is — 
deceptive  altogether.  We  see  around  us  provisions  for  almost 
every  indulgence,  which  ingenuity  can  conceive,  or  stimulated 
appetite  enjoy.  Yet  let  us  not  forget  that  this  very  progress  of 
gratification  begets  a  parallel  progress  of  desire,  and  that  our 
cravings  are  ever  in  advance  of  the  means  of  their  satisfaction. 


20  LECTURE    ON    THE 

New  provisions  create  new  wants.  What  to-day  was  content 
with,  will  give  no  contentment  to-morrow,  and  the  man  of  to- 
morrow, with  his  additional  appliances,  will  be  as  far  from  his 
goal  as  the  man  of  to-day ;  for,  though  he  has  advanced  in  means, 
his  standard  has  advanced  with  him,  and  all  human  things  are 
relative.  Even  his  bodily  frame,  increasing  in  sensibility,  must 
increase  in  refinement,  so  that  the  high  gratification  of  the  man 
of  this  century  may  not  be  relatively  higher,  than  to  the  man 
of  the  past,  with  his  coarser  fibre,  was  the  coarse  enjoyment 
which  made  up  his  maximum  of  gratification.  An  able  medical 
writer  has  recently  produced  a  work,  expressly  devoted  to  "  a 
consideration  of  the  changes  produced  by  civilization,  upon  the 
nervous  system,"  wherein  he  sustains  the  position,  that  advanc- 
ing civilization  provides  "  a  finer,  and  gradually  more  abundant 
endowment  of  the  purely  nervous  tissues,  amongst  the  constitu- 
ent elements  of  human  physiology."  To  this  doctrine,  may  be 
added,  in  corroboration,  the  wonderful  increase  (out  of  all  ratio, 
with  increased  population)  of  diseases  of  the  nerves  and  brain, 
and  disorders  of  the  mind  following  thereupon — a  circumstance 
which  has  attracted  much  attention  of  late,  and  which  is  surely 
an  item  of  no  trifling  consideration  in  a  view  of  our  progress 
towards  perfection. 

But  even  this  very  equivocal  sort  of  physical  improvement 
is  far  from  being  extended  to  the  masses,  and  still  farther  from 
being  permanent  with  any  class.  All  old  and  thickly  settled 
countries,  even  the  most  civilized,  are  remarkable  for  their 
startling  contrasts  of  splendor  and  misery.  National  greatness 
is  no  security  against  individual  starvation.  Of  this  the  present 
■situation  of  Great  Britain  is  a  demonstration,  painfully  eloquent. 
The  crowded  workshops,  and  their  squalid  denizens, — pauper- 
ism increasing  in  a  ratio  larger  than  that  of  the  increasing  popu- 
lation,— the  reduction  of  the  actual  necessaries  of  life  into  a 
smaller  circle,  andthe  increased  severity  of  the  toil  required  to 
obtain  even  those — all  these  things  bear  directly  on  our  subject, 
but  I  have  space  only  to  allude  to  them.  Fortunately  our  own 
position,  as  a  new  people,  relieves  us  from  the  pain  of  an  imme- 
diate application  of  them  to  ourselves.     We  flatter  ourselves 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  21 

that  we  are  freed  from  the  chance  of  ever  knowing  them  ex- 
perimentally, by  our  peculiar  institutions.  Long  be  the  day  of 
our  disenchantment  postponed ! 

But,  besides  the  palpable  effects  of  social  progression  upon 
the  physical  comfort  of  the  masses,  there  are  other  evils — less 
conspicuous,  but  not  less  real — which  result  from  the  vast  ex- 
tent of  commerce,  and  the  multiplication  of  systems  for  the 
accumulation  of  wealth.  The  eagerness  for  gain,  stimulating 
men  from  the  quiet  walks  of  legitimate  trade,  to  chase  the  rain- 
bow-tinted bubbles  of  speculation — gambling,  in  a  word — to 
what  fluctuations  of  fortune,  and  to  what  consequent  misery  has 
it  not  been  the  parent  ^  The  whole  system  of  imaginary  funds 
and  capital — putting  aside  the  blasting  demoralization  it  has  be- 
gotten— how  has  it  gone  over  individual  prosperity,  and  domes- 
tic competence  and  happiness,  like  the  cloud  of  sand  over  the 
wealth  of  the  caravan !  Legislation,  too, — bending  before 
every  breath  of  changing  theory  to  which  popular  fancy  or  in- 
terest may  have  chosen  to  play  the  ^^olus — how  often  has  it,  in 
our  time,  made  beggars  of  the  wealthy,  and  outcasts  of  the 
humbly  independent.^ 

It  is  then  a  bold  proposition,  to  say,  that  because  nations  are 
great,  and  prosperous,  and  wise,  their  people  are,  therefore, 
happy,  or  high  in  their  moral  standard.  I  am  as  far  removed  as 
any  one,  from  the  absurd  belief,  that  happiness  and  moral  ex- 
cellence are  necessarily  attendant  upon  the  ruder  stages  of  so- 
ciety, or  that  a  complicated  and  advanced  social  system  drives 
them,  of  necessity,  to  groves  and  sheepwalks.  I  only  mean  to 
say,  that  a  brilliant,  ostensible,  social  progression  may  be  ac- 
companied by  a  low  stage  of  individual  welfare,  physical  and 
moral.  I  have  proven,  1  think,  that  the  "  civilization"  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  is  a  sad  exemplification  of  this  sad  truth. 
"  Will,"  says  Carlyle,  "  the  whole  finance  ministers,  and  uphol- 
sterers, and  confectioners  of  modern  Europe,  undertake,  in  joint- 
stock  company,  to  make  one  shoe-black  happy  .^"  With  some 
probability  of  success,  I  think  they  may.  Governments  may 
provide  a  thousand  means  for  the  improvement  of  his  mind 
and  heart;  or,  if  they  are  content  to  do  less,  they  may  increase 


22  LECTURE    ON    THE 

his  facilities  for  the  enjoyment  of  physical  existence,  in  humble 
comfort,  and  even  this,  to  the  shoe-black,  who  is  not  likely  to 
be  very  transcendental,  may  be  no  small  item  of  actual  felicity. 
With  the  capacity  to  do  even  thus  much  for  their  meanest  citi- 
zens or  subjects,  governments  are  false  to  duty  v^^hile  they  ne- 
glect it,  let  their  rank  in  "  civilization"  be  what  it  may. 

We  are  led  away  and  deceived,  by  the  glittering  semblances 
and  high  sounding  names  of  things.  We  speak  of  the  feudal 
times,  with  shuddering,  and  the  dark  ages  with  enlightened  con- 
tempt, but,  is  the  nation  of  this  day,  in  its  intercourse  with  sister 
nations,  animated  by  principles  more  holy,  than  those  which 
governed  the  relations  between  feudal  sovereigns  ?  More  wise 
they  may  be,  I  grant,  but  not  more  pure.  Was  the  feudal  vassal 
of  the  middle  ages  altogether  miserable  and  degraded,  because 
of  the  chain  of  fealty  which  bound  him  to  do  service,  even  with 
his  blood  ?  Did  he  throw  away  his  happiness  and  his  moral 
worth,  when  he  flung  himself  into  the  strife  of  bills  and  bows  ? 
In  the  tie  which  bound  the  long-descended  vassal  to  his  long- 
descended  lord,  there  was  something  of  self-devotion,  of  affec- 
tion, which  made  the  foray  a  labor  of  love,  and  death  in  the 
battle-field,  a  willing  martyrdom,  at  the  shrine  of  reverence  and 
duty.  The  artisan  of  the  same  times,  a  member  of  his  guild  or 
corporation,  united,  in  brotherhood  and  interest,  with  those  who 
plied  the  same  art,  was  he  to  be  pitied,  because  his  unenlight- 
ened mind  knew  not  those  laws  of  political  economy,  which 
have  since  pronounced  his  guild  a  folly,  a  monopoly,  a  nuisance? 
Has  he  profited  much  by  the  change,  which  has  brought  down 
his  pride,  from  independence  as  a  burgher,  to  pauperism  as  an 
operative — which  has  set  him  adrift,  alone,  in  the  wide  world 
of  labor,  with  rules  of  scientific  selfishness  for  over-reaching  his 
neighbor,  if  he  can.'*  The  Chinese  was  surely  as  happy  and  as 
good,  centuries  ago,  in  the  persuasion  of  his  own  unapproach- 
able wisdom  and  unfathomable  antiquity,  as  he  will  be  a  century 
hence,  when  long  wars  and  slaughter  shall  have  made  him  a 
British  subject,  and  taught  him  the  wonders  of  Anglo-Saxon 
civilization ! 

The  enlightened  spirit  of  modern  Europe,  discards,  as  frivo- 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  23 

lous,  the  taste  for  rural  and  public  pleasures — for  festivals  and 
ceremonial — for  all  those  pleasant  observances,  social  though 
national,  which  in  earlier  times  made  up  so  large  an  element  of 
popular  enjoyment.  Has  the  human  mind  or  heart,  think  you, 
gone  nearer  to  perfection,  in  attribute  or  impulse,  because  a 
cold  policy  has  thus  devoted  to  selfish  and  gainful  purposes,  the 
few  hours,  once  sacred  to  a  general  renewal  of  the  kindly 
sympathies  of  life  ? 

Has  the  tendency  of  governments,  and  of  society — themselves 
to  monopolize  or  control  the  duties  and  opinions,  once  left  to 
individual  observance  and  regulation — added  any  thing  to  the 
development  of  individual  character.'*  Take,  for  example,  as  to 
governments,  the  duty  of  succoring  and  maintaining  the  poor, 
once  a  charge  on  private  charity,  now  a  matter  of  state  adminis- 
tration. Grant,  if  you  please — what  the  statistics  of  British  poor 
laws  do,  however,  most  glaringly  contradict — grant  that  this 
assumption  by  government,  to  be  the  people's  almoner,  has  given 
effective  and  salutary  system  to  the  discharge  of  this  sacred  ob- 
ligation. But,  do  you  think  that  it  has  tended  to  elevate  and 
purify  the  moral  tone  of  individuals,  by  converting  the  offering 
of  the  heart,  into  an  item  in  the  detested  tax-bill.'' 

Then  again,  as  to  the  interference  of  society  with  individual 
thought  and  action.  Has  the  introduction  of  the  principle  of 
association  in  moral  reforms,  not  tended  to  substitute  enthusiasm 
for  virtue,  and  to  weaken  the  surer  reliance  of  man,  on  the 
working  of  a  nobler  principle  or  a  diviner  agency,  in  his  own 
heart  ^  Has  not  the  substitution  of  a  vast,  irregular,  irrespon- 
sible public  opinion,  for  the  dictates  of  individual  conscience, 
had  the  effect  of  making  men  slaves — even  where  government  is 
most  free — to  a  despotism  which  they  despise,  for  its  frequent 
absurdity  and  worthlessness,  but  which  they  cannot  brave,  be- 
cause i  3  power  is  irresistible.'* 

So  much,  then,  for  the  effect  of  "  civilization"  on  the  moral, 
as  well  as  the  physical  welfare  of  our  race.  The  views  which 
i  have  sketched,  thus  rapidly,  form  but  a  small  segment  of  the 
wide  field  which  the  subject  before  us  covers.  Limited,  too,  as 
has  been  the  sphere  of  my  examination,  I  have  been  compelled, 


24  LECTURE   ON    THE 

by  a  regard  for  your  patience,  to  give  it  a  character,  at  best  but 
superficial.  I  pretend  to  nothing  more ;  but,  I  trust,  I  have  said 
enough,  to  convince  you  that  the  popular  notion  of  "  progress'' 
is  delusive  in  a  high  degree,  and  based  upon  principles  of  de- 
lusion. 

The  scheme  of  Providence,  so  far  as  human  eyes  may  read  it, 
is  one,  which,  on  the  whole,  has  varied  but  little,  in  the  range 
of  time.  Instead  of  presenting  us  a  career,  which,  with  perfec- 
tion before  it,  has  not  ceased  to  go  forward,  it  has  made  manifest 
to  us  a  sum  of  virtues  and  vices,  advantages  and  disadvantages, 
powers  and  weaknesses,  so  balanced  against  each  other,  so 
fairly,  and,  on  the  whole,  so  equally  mingled,  that  one  century 
has  had  but  little  right  to  boast  of  more  peculiar  favors  than  its 
fellows.  "  Civilization"  has  brought,  with  its  increased  bless- 
ings, increase  of  woes,  and  all  history  seems  to  disclose  an  anal- 
ogy in  the  life  of  generations,  to  the  life  of  individual  men,  in 
this,  at  any  rate,  that,  in  spite  of  striking  contrasts,  there  is  more 
equality  of  lot,  than  human  repining  is  willing  to  allow.  Ap- 
pearances, pretensions,  may  delude,  names  may  deceive,  theo- 
ries lead  astray,  but,  on  the  whole,  it  may  be  said  with  justice 
of  human  destiny,  as  Richelieu  has  it  of  individual  happiness : 

"  Through  plots. 
And  counterplots,  mid  glory  and  disgrace. 
Along  the  plains,  where  passionate  discord  rears 
Eternal  Babel,  still  the  holy  stream 

its  level  but  little  varying,  its  volume  ever  near  the  same ! 

I  should  serve  but  ill,  the  purposes  for  which  public  lectures 
were  intended,  were  I  to  pause,  after  showing  the  errors  of  a 
system,  and  leave  its  evil  consequences  altogether  unnoticed. 
The  tendency  of  the  fashionable  doctrine  of  progress  is  as  per- 
nicious, as  the  doctrine  itself  is  false.  It  is  two-fold ;  it  leads  to 
fatalism,  or  to  blind,  revolutionary  radicalism. 

So  long  as  men  are  content  to  rest  upon  the  ordinary  principle, 
that  measures,  wisely  and  virtuously  planned  and  executed,  will, 
under  Providence,  result  in  benefit,  happiness,  improvement — in 
either  words,  that  good  seed  will  spring  up  to  good  fruit,  there 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  25 

can  be  no  danger  but  that  good  seed  will  be  sown,  and  good 
fruit,  of  course,  be  gathered.  Opinions  and  conduct  will  be 
weighed,  with  a  sole  regard  to  their  worth  and  their  justice,  and 
men  will  not  hold,  that  their  duty  to  the  future  implies  forget- 
fulness  of  the  past,  or  contempt  for  its  lessons.  But,  let  it  once 
be  understood  and  believed — that  a  constant  current  is  bearing 
our  race,  onward,  from  weakness  to  strength,  from  frailty  to 
virtue,  from  imperfection  to  perfection — that  the  occurrences 
which,  to  human  eyes,  seem  contradictions  to  such  a  theory,  are 
but  as  eddies,  where  some  slight  portions  of  the  torrent^  for  a 
moment  pause  or  retrograde,  while  the  main  stream  rolls,  irre- 
sistibly and  ever  on — and  an  end  is,  from  that  moment,  put  to  all 
sound  appreciation  of  individual  and  national  principle  and  ac- 
tion, to  all  worthy,  and  wise,  and  energetic  effort,  for  individual 
and  social  good.  Fatalism — faith  in  destiny — becomes  the 
ruling  principle  of  thought  and  conduct.  Why  should  we  toil 
with  brain  or  sinew,  if  all  things  will,  in  the  end,  be  well,  whe- 
ther we  toil  or  not }  Thus  will  men  regulate  their  actions. 
Their  opinions  will  all  be  graduated  according  to  the  simple 
scale,  that  "  whatever  is,  is  right." 

It  is  told,  as  an  amusing  instance  of  the  folly  which  nations 
commit,  in  attempting  to  force  their  institutions  upon  conquered 
or  dependent  countries,  that  a  British  official,  some  time  since, 
in  India,  called  together  a  coroner's  jury  of  natives,  in  order  to 
hold  his  inquest  over  the  body  of  a  devotee,  who  had  drowned 
himself  in  the  Ganges.  The  jury  were  all  sworn,  the  testimony 
was  heard,  in  due  and  solemn  form,  and  the  verdict  was  de- 
manded. True  to  the  fatalism  which  their  religion  teaches,  the 
whole  panel,  unanimously,  answered,  "  He  died,  because  his 
time  had  come !" 

Now,  precisely  such  is  the  verdict,  which  the  historians  and 
philosophers  of  progress  pass,  upon  the  deeds  and  fortunes  of 
men  and  nations.  Success,  is  evidence  of  a  cause  which  deserved 
success — defeat,  of  one  which  was  ordained  to  fall !  "  We 
must,"  says  Cousin,  "  be  on  the  side  of  the  victor,  for  his  is 
always  the  better  cause ;  it  is  the  cause  of  civilization  and  of 
humanity,  of  the  present  and  the  future,  while  the  cause  of  the 
vanquished  party,  is  always  that  of  the  past."  And  again,  "  we 
4 


26  LECTURE   ON   THE 

ever  find,  on  reflection,  that  the  vanquished  ought  to  have  been 
vanquished  !"  "  Every  revolution,"  says  JoufFroy,  "  is  a  step 
in  the  discovery  of  goodness  and  truth." 

A  mighty  revolution,  such  as  that  of  France,  is  consummated. 
Blood  is  poured  out  like  rain.  The  foundations  of  society  are 
levelled.  The  furies  of  vs^ar,  with  their  serpents,  are  let  loose 
upon  the  civilized  world.  Europe  trembles,  and,  for  a  moment, 
totters:  at  last,  quiet  succeeds  to  storm,  and  then,  there  is  not 
wanting  a  philosophic  historian,  like  a  Thiers,  to  demonstrate, 
that  all  the  sickening  detail  of  carnage,  and  rapine,  and  demoral- 
ization, was  a  part  of  the  great  programme,  according  to  which 
humanity  was  to  be  carried  a  step  nearer  to  perfection.  The 
ancient  institutions  of  France  were  w^orn  out.  They  would 
serve  no  longer.  The  ancient  fabric  of  society  had  grown 
threadbare.  The  ancient  rulers  were  no  longer  fit  to  rule.  Their 
lime  had  come !  and  therefore  it  was  entirely  within  the  range 
of  necessity,  nay,  of  propriety,  that  they  should  be  gotten  rid 
of,  in  some  way,  no  matter  how.  The  French  revolution  hap- 
pened, therefore  it  was  fated  to  happen.  It  triumphed,  therefore 
it  was  right !     It  developed  goodness  and  truth ! 

A  mighty  continent — our  own,  for  example — is  inhabited  by 
savage  tribes.  It  is  rich  in  the  treasures  of  nature — glories  in 
variety  of  climate,  in  beauty  and  excellence,  in  valley,  lake,  and 
hill.  Two  centuries  pass,  and  a  great  empire  is  spread  over  its 
surface — but  the  savage  exists  no  longer.  The  historian  of  pro- 
gress teaches  us,  that,  as  Anglo-Saxon  energy  built  up  this  great 
republic,  of  course  this  continent  was  meant  as  a  new  theatre 
for  Anglo-Saxon  greatness.  The  Indian  might  have  been  civil- 
ized, but  it  was  more  convenient  to  make  way  with  him.  He 
perished,  therefore  it  was  right  for  him  to  perish.  He  was  but 
a  victim  to  philosophical  necessity. 

In  our  own  day,  a  great  empire — China,  for  instance — refuses 
any  but  a  limited  intercourse  with  other  nations.  On  ordinary 
principles,  this  would  seem  to  be  her  undoubted  right.  But — 
says  the  philosopher  of  progress,  ever  on  the  side  of  ambition — 
it  is  the  destiny  of  nations  to  be  civilized :  no  nation  has  a  right 
to  refuse  this  boon.  China  resists  her  destiny.  Therefore  it 
is  right  to  storm,  burn,  shoot,  persecute,  destroy.     Civilization 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  27 

has  manufactured  goods,  rotting  in  her  warehouses,  which  some- 
body must  pay  for.  China  can,  but  will  not.  Civilization  will 
be  retarded,  if  production  be  arrested  by  default  of  consumption. 
Therefore  China  has  no  right  to  decline  consuming.  She  must 
learn  the  force  of  compulsion.  Her  old  system  is  behind  the 
lights  of  the  age.  Its  time  has  come.  And  so,  by  a  simple 
process,  the  crying  outrage  perpetrated  on  this  singular  people, 
by  the  British  arms,  is,  with  the  utmost  facility,  converted  into  a 
glorious  triumph  of  human  progress — a  subject  not  merely  of 
palliation,  but  jubilee!  If  I  mistake  not,  one  of  our  own  most 
eminent  citizens  has,  in  a  public  discourse,  sustained  this  doc- 
trine. 

It  would  be  superfluous  for  me  to  show  you,  in  similar  detail, 
how  this  same  principle  will  apply  itself  to  the  internal  doings 
of  nations.  With  its  establishment,  all  just  notions  of  right  and 
wrong  must  perish.  One  of  two  things  will  inevitably  follow. 
Either  the  people  will  resign  themselves,  ingloriously,  to  the 
chances  which  may  await  them,  relying  upon  destiny  to  set  all 
things  right  at  last :  or  they  will  consult  expediency  as  the  only 
oracle,  and  regard  success  as  the  only  criterion,  of  truth  and 
justice.  How  long  the  most  prosperous  national  condition  can 
survive  such  a  state  of  things,  the  history  of  the  past  may  show 
to  us ;  and  common  reason,  of  itself,  would  be  able,  readily^,  to 
divine. 

But  it  is  not  merely  the  principle  of  fatalism,  and  its  demoral- 
izing influences,  which  we  have  to  fear  from  the  doctrine  of 
perfectibility.  Let  a  people  persuade  themselves,  or  be  per- 
suaded, that  the  future  is  to  be,  of  necessity,  an  improvement  on 
the  past — that,  by  consequence,  they  can  only  reach  the  excel- 
lence of  the  future,  by  discarding  what  the  past  has  bequeathed 
to  them — and  it  is  easy  to  see  that  every  tendency  will  be 
towards  change,  whether  wise  or  foolish — change,  for  change's 
sake. 

The  profoundest  observer  and  commentator  upon  the  institu- 
tions of  our  country  and  their  tendency,  M.  De  Tocqueville, 
has  proven,  with  very  great  clearness,  that  the  principle  of  de- 
mocracy— which  allows  self-improvement,  indeed  stimulates 
every  man  to  it — necessarily  superinduces  a  disposition,  on  the 


28  LECTURE   ON    THE 

part  of  all  men,  to  consider  the  sphere  of  their  capacity  for  im- 
provement, their  perfectibility,  almost  indefinite.  Among  such 
a  people  as  ourselves,  then — thus  prone,  from  the  democratic 
character  of  our  institutions,  to  restlessness  and  change — it 
is  clear  that  the  additional  stimulus  of  a  philosophic  system, 
which  teaches  perfectibility  as  a  dogma,  must  be  peculiarly  dan- 
gerous. The  indisposition  to  be  stationary,  the  impulse  to  do 
something,  to  go  on,  to  alter,  at  all  hazards,  must  become  almost 
irresistible.  Under  such  stimulus,  permanence  must  become  a 
thing  impossible. 

Thus  is  it,  that  even  now,  we  find  ourselves  unwilling,  by  law 
or  social  organization,  to  bind  ourselves  to  any  fixed  policy  or 
principle.  We  look  to  the  future,  as  necessarily  containing 
within  itself,  some  new  developments,  whereof  the  past  had  no 
idea,  and  whereunto  the  present  affords  no  clue.  We  are  indis- 
posed, therefore,  to  lay  the  foundation  of  any  thing  permanent, 
believing  that  there  is  something  better  to  come,  which  will  en- 
tirely supersede  the  best  conceptions  of  the  present. 

Like  all  other  general  and  abstract  principles,  adopted  by 
masses  as  their  rules  of  conduct,  this  principle  of  progress,  thus 
established,  tends  visibly  towards  fanaticism.  Its  hopes  and 
aspirations,  the  enthusiastic  sentiments  by  w^hich  it  animates  and 
sustains  them,  grow  to  make  up  the  mighty  volume  of  public 
opinion.  Once  linked  with  the  despotic  power  which  public 
opinion,  in  democratic  countries,  has  never  failed  to  exercise,  it 
pronounces  its  anathemas  of  extermination,  against  all  who  would 
attempt  to  resist  the  spirit  of  the  age.  For  the  past,  and  its 
hoary  truths  and  tried  institutions,  this  fanaticism  has  no  merc3^ 
What  it  denominates  established  error,  must  perish  at  every 
hazard,  peaceably  or  forcibly.  If  it  does  not  fall,  like  the  walls  of 
Jericho,  at  the  sound  of  the  reformer's  horn,  it  must  be  stormed, 
as  the  Mussulman  monarch  overthrew  Constantinople,  with 
lighted  torches  at  the  extremities  of  cimetar  and  lance.  Accom- 
panying its  illumination,  nay  bound  to  its  very  torch,  is  its  wea- 
pon :  and  the  enemy  must  take  the  light,  at  the  point  of  the  steel. 
Laying  it  down  as  a  maxim  not  to  be  questioned,  that  reform 
must  follow  revolution — identifying  improvement  with  change- 
it  gives  the  rein  to  the  wildest  sans-culottism,  and  annihilates 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY.  29 

every  thing  like  national  or  individual  repose.  It  drives  the 
statesman  from  his  half  concocted  plans  of  permanent  polity^ 
into  the  struggle  for  popularity  and  ephemeral  applause — into 
shifting  and  time-serving  legislation.  It  snatches  the  student 
from  communion  with  the  wisdom  of  the  dead,  into  the  arena  of 
excitement  and  controversy.  It  substitutes  for  the  earnest  and 
calm  inquiry  into  political,  moral,  and  social  truth,  the  hurried 
disquisition,  the  superficial  pamphlet,  the  plausible  system.  It 
stimulates  to  a  wide  range  of  superficial  acquirement,  which  may 
give  fluency  and  plausibility  on  all  points,  profundity  and  grave 
knowledge  upon  none.  It  sees,  from  the  history  of  past  legisla- 
tion, that  men  have  been  left  too  little  to  themselves,  and  it 
rushes  to  the  conclusion  that  all  government  is  an  evil,  and  that 
men  will  be  nearest  to  perfection,  when  left  to  themselves  alto- 
gether. A  rational  adherence  to  systems  proven  good  by  expe- 
rience, is  denominated  an  obstinate  adherence  to  prejudices.  The 
lessons  even  of  the  very  present,  it  treats  as  stones  rolled  in  the 
path  of  the  future.  Being  fanatical,  full  of  absolutism  in  its  doc- 
trines, it  is  of  course  rabid  in  its  spirit  of  propagandism.  Instead 
of  leaving  every  man  to  fill  his  appropriate  sphere  of  usefulness  in 
the  discharge  of  his  duties  as  an  individual  and  a  citizen,  it  talks 
of  this  and  that  man's  "  mission"  to  humanity,  and  sets  all  its  dis- 
ciples to  teaching,  instead  of  learning  and  acting.  Hence  the 
abundance  of  philosophers  in  our  day,  all  with  some  "  mission" 
or  other  to  fulfil,  and  all,  in  some  way  or  other,  prepared  to  hasten 
the  certain  progress  of  our  race  to  a  terrestrial  millenium,  where 
metaphysics  will  constitute  felicity.  Each  one  of  these  re- 
modellers  of  the  world,  feels  that  he  stands  upon  an  intellectual 
and  moral  eminence,  the  impersonation  of  Tennyson's  poet — 

"  When  rites  and  forms,  before  his  burning  eyes. 
Melted  like  snow !" 

It  needs  then  no  vision  of  peculiar  clearness,  to  see  that  a  sys- 
tem, with  such  tendencies,  demands  not  only  denunciation,  but 
an  antidote.  Not  in  enthusiastic,  wild  anticipations,  but  in  grave, 
and  careful,  and  deliberate  deductions,  will  the  philosophy  of 
true  progress  find  its  realization.  Not  he  who  flings  up  his  cap, 
and  cheers  the  spirit  of  the  age,  as  through  wTong,  over  right,  it 


30  LECTURE   ON   THE 

speeds,  like  Mazeppa's  courser,  its  irresistible  way,  careless 
where  it  travels,  so  it  but  travel  on — not  he  is  the  minister  at 
the  altar  of  sound  morals  or  philosophy.  The  true  political 
philosopher,  is  he  who  strives  to  discover  what  is  good,  and  to 
hold  fast  to  it  when  it  has  been  found.  To  him,  the  march  of 
society  is  not  as  a  mighty  pageant,  of  which  he  judges,  as  the  vul- 
gar spectator  may  judge  a  passing  army,  by  its  flaunting  ban- 
ners, its  music,  its  glitter,  its  array  !  He  knows  the  weakness  of 
his  species,  as  familiarly  as  he  knows  its  strength.  His  faith  is 
not  in  man  merely,  nor  in  a  high  imaginary  destiny.  He  knows 
that  man  may  be  wise  and  good  without  being  perfect,  and  he 
contents  himself  with  realizing  what  can  be  realized,  rather  than 
dreaming  what  may  be  dreamed.  While  the  political  or  moral 
alchymist  is  wasting  life  and  toil,  in  search  of  an  impossible  se- 
cret, he  is  satisfied  with  humbler  aims.  He  is  happy  in  devo- 
ting his  labor  to  simpler  ends — pleased  to  accomplish  something, 
though  but  little,  rather  than  grasp  at  infinity  and  clutch  the  air. 
For  him,  the  spirit  of  the  age  is  not  merely  the  downward  or 
onward  rushing  of  a  blind  tendency.  It  is  the  balanced  move- 
ment of  opposing  forces;  safe,  because  checked  on  every  side. 
It  is  the  wisdom  of  the  past,  spoken  from  the  lips  of  the  present — 
whispered  in  the  ear  of  the  future.  Looking  forward  to  the 
improvement  of  his  race  within  the  limits  of  its  frailty,  his  faith 
regards  it,  not  as  the  irresistible  whirling  of  a  maelstroom,  into 
which  every  thing  is  to  be  drawn,  but  as  nothing  more  than  an 
effect,  following  a  combination  of  causes,  dependent  on  those 
causes  altogether,  and  on  the  Providence  that  rules  them.  "  No 
man,"  says  Mr.  Carlyle,  "  ever  became  a  hero  in  his  sleep." 
No  nation,  it  may  with  equal  truth  be  averred,  ever  became 
happy,  or  great,  or  justly  glorious,  through  rash  radicalism,  or 
blind  and  vicious  fatalism,  or  in  any  mode,  other  than  by  the 
unwearied  application  of  appropriate  human  means.  Faith  in  a 
people,  must  arise  from  something  intrinsic  in  their  character 
and  their  principles — hope  for  their  future  fortune,  must  spring 
from  faith  well  founded.  Upon  what  can  the  faith  and  hope  of 
man,  in  any  people,  repose,  unless  it  be  on  their  ability  and  wil- 
lingness to  frame  the  elements  of  permanence — their  readiness  to 
rest  upon  them,  when  once  they  have  been  framed  ?  What  boots 


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PHILOSOPHY  OF   HISTORY.  31 

k  to  a  man,  that  he  has  lived,  if  his  life  has  been  but  the  chase 
of  a  child  after  its  butterfly — a  pursuit  after  something  which 
has  never  been  found  ?  What  has  a  nation  gained  from  half  a 
century,  or  twenty  centuries  of  existence,  if,  like  a  wandering 
savage  tribe,  it  has  demolished  on  each  morning,  the  temporary 
hut,  beneath  which  it  rested  the  night  before,  and  has  no  remem- 
brance or  relic  of  its  journey,  save  the  fatigue  of  the  travel  ? 
National  life  is  worth  nothing,  save  for  its  experiences  and  their 
application.  A  wise  philosopher  has  said  that  "  a  country  of 
yesterday  has  no  to-morrow."  His  commentator  has  improved 
the  saying,  by  the  paraphrase — "  there  is  no  future,  for  a  people 
who  have  no  past." 

Upon  these  maxims,  I  am  willing  to  rest  the  moral  of  the 
wandering  discourse  to  which  it  has  pleased  you  to  listen. 
That  there  is,  for  this  land  of  ours,  an  opportunity  of  moving 
in  a  glorious  sphere  of  national  development,  the  simplest,  least 
enthusiastic  observation  will  unquestionably  teach  us.  But  that 
an  honorable  destiny  is  to  come  upon  us,  like  a  thief  in  the  night — 
that  it  is  a  destiny,  which  no  effort  or  instrumentality  of  ours  is 
needful  to  consummate,  which  no  misconduct  of  ours  can  retard,  or 
even  wholly  avert — it  is  the  climax  of  absurdity  to  dream.  All  the 
poets  whom  the  muses  ever  crowned,  might  sing  the  promise  of 
our  national  futurity, until  the  Alleghanies  should  rival  Helicon; 
yet  not  one  blessing,  which  their  rhapsodies  might  announce, 
would  come  upon  us,  until  head,  and  hand,  and  heart,  should  have 
labored,  faithfully,  to  secure  it.  All  the  enthusiasts,  who  ever 
gave  form  to  the  shadows  that  came  up  to  them  through  the 
ivory  gate  of  waking  sleep,  might  preach  of  progress  until  their 
"  missions"  were  worn  out,  and  all  the  world  a-weary,  yet  never 
would  prophecy  draw  on  fulfilment,  or  improvement  come,  till 
something  should  be  done  to  bring  it.  The  present  is  parent  to 
the  future,  as  "  the  child  is  father  of  the  man" — and  to  secure 
the  future's  destiny,  provision  must  be  made  to  shape  the  action 
of  the  present,  after  the  lessons  of  the  past. 

In  an  aristocratic  or  monarchical  government,  the  political 
philosopher,  seeing  that  the  tendency  is  to  adhere  with  rigour 
to  the  past,  will  advocate,  most  probably,  the  adoption  of 
counteracting  principles — hoping  that  the  resultant  force  will 


'■•  s" 


32  LECTURE  ON  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY. 

pass  through  the  happy  medium.  When,  on  the  contrary, 
he  finds  principles  and  action  ever  prone  to  break  up  the  con- 
servative elements  of  society,  it  will  be  his  effort  to  cast  his 
anchor  out  upon  some  firm  spot,  and  thus  hold  up  against  the 
tempest.  Instead  of  feeding  his  fancy  with  indefinite  notions  of 
a  perfection,  which  is  sure  to  fall  on  us,  no  one  knows  when,  or 
how,  or  why,  he  will  pause  gravely,  to  examine,  to  weigh,  to 
regulate  realities.  He  will  not  trust  to  the  stars,  till  he  has  done 
something  to  realize  the  augury  of  the  "  shining  sybils."  To 
counteract  an  endless  and  bootless  yearning  for  the  future,  he 
will  endeavour  to  extract  all  that  is  good,  and  great,  and  useful, 
from  the  past — to  throw  some  bread  of  permanence  upon  the 
waters  of  change  and  progress,  that  he  may  look  for  its  return 
after  many  days.  Laws  and  constitutions  he  will  not  regard  as 
capable  of  working  miracles,  merely  by  their  adoption  and 
enactment.  Free  legislation,  he  will  not  proclaim  to  be,  of  ne- 
cessity, wise  legislation.  Public  opinion  he  will  not  bow  to,  as 
the  incarnation  of  truth.  Change  he  will  not  hallow,  because  it 
is  clamoured  for.  Not  in  names,  but  in  things,  will  his  confi- 
dence rest  and  his  power.  He  will  not  squabble  for  the  abstract 
meaning  of  a  governmental  provision,  while  its  essence  fleets 
away,  nor,  like  Mr.  Clutterbuck,  lose  his  time  in  straightening  a 
crooked  nail  in  his  wine  cask,  while  the  generous  liquid  is  was- 
ted through  the  opening.  He  will  not  deem  that  every  narrow- 
ness, and  bitterness,  and  weakness  of  practical  administration,  is 
atoned  for,  by  a  boundless  theoretical  expansion  of  wisdom,  love 
and  promise.  He  will  eschew  fatalism  as  folly,  and  the  extre- 
mity of  radicalism  he  will  denounce  as  something  worse.  His 
effort  will  be  to  build  up,  not  to  pull  down.  His  philosophy 
will  be  of  deeds,  not  of  words.  He  will  busy  himself,  more 
with  the  good  of  individuals,  than  the  destinies  of  the  species. 
He  will  not  hang  the  silent  harp  of  human  sympathy  upon  the 
willows  of  an  abstract  principle,  nor  devote  himself  to  solving 
the  problems  of  humanity  at  large,  while  the  welfare  of  his  fel- 
low beings  in  particular,  lies  all  unheeded.  In  the  present,  he 
will  strive  to  found  something  for  the  aggregations  of  the  future 
to  cling  to,  so  that  each  generation  may  add  its  contribution  to 
the  mass  —  so  that  additional  strength  and  permanence  may 
grow,  as,  in  the  world  of  matter,  chrystal  forms  itself  on  chrys- 
tal,  and  stratum  builds  itself  on  stratum. 

Let'such  be  the  moral  drawn,  for  the  men  of  our  country,  from 
the  philosophy  of  history.  Faith,  in  her  destiny,  will  then  rest 
on  something  more  substantial  than  fancy.  Hope  will  be  firm, 
on  something  less  evanescent  than  the  rainbow. 


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